


All Over Him

by aceofhearts88



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adorable, Cake, Cute, Everybody wants Sam, Flowers, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Sweet, Tech Updates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 17:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7584085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofhearts88/pseuds/aceofhearts88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is comfortable with who he is, knows that a lot of people find him rather attractive, but what this week brings him is kind of too much to take in after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Over Him

Sam wasn't as insecure as to believe that no one would ever want him, but he also wasn't that convinced of his attractiveness and beautiful character to call himself hottest piece of ass out there. He saw himself somewhere in the middle, healthy middle, happy inside his own skin, content with who he was and where he had ended up. He was sure in his sexuality, knew what he wanted from a relationship, knew what made him happy.

The ugliness of the stupid war long behind them now, one united team again, maybe even stronger than before, closer than before after all problems had been worked through. 

But this week in July just...was really crazy.

\--

It all started with Bucky.

Should have probably been a warning sign. A pattern that started with Bucky of all people could not be sane.

\--

On Tuesday, Bucky approached him casually after breakfast to ask him if he wanted to come out to the market with him, all sweet and really quiet innocent. Sam, still in the process of walking up and half drowned in his coffee mug, blinked at him in surprise, looked up at those wide blue eyes and agreed to come with him.

And seriously why not. Since getting a chance at a free life back and reuniting with the team, Bucky was a joy to be around, happy and quiet, and obsessed with healthy food. He liked cooking with fresh ingredients, made everything from scratch and tried out new receipts with great eagerness, Sam would never forget the face Wanda had made after tasting his Paprikash.

The day was warm, but not so hot as to make it uncomfortable already, some clouds passing over the sky and covering the sun from time to time, slight breeze being an ease on heated skin. They walked into town, which took about an hour, but Bucky and Sam both loved the nature, both of them loved to take long walks through the forests surrounding the base, talking about this and that.

Just relaxing and breathing in the silence.

Today, it all felt a little different and Sam couldn't put his finger on it until they were already in the outskirts of town. Bucky, carrying his basket, had smiled, as he so often did nowadays, hair pulled up into a messy bun, he had smiled and listened to Sam ramble on about his latest visit to his sister and his nephew. He had encouraged him to talk some more, had asked after his mother and then nodded when Sam groaned about her constant fussing over him getting too skinny.

Bucky hadn't really said anything about himself at all.

Once they arrived on the market, Sam was inclined to take a step back as he usually did, he liked eating what came upon the table, he even could cook the basics, but this whole agenda was really Bucky's metier, it was where he bloomed and Sam liked to watch him. Bucky knew almost all the local farmers and gardeners offering their harvested fruits and vegetables at their stands, he called them by their first names, asked after their families and how the harvest was running, and everyone loved him.

But today, Bucky kept him close, introduced him to what felt like everyone, told people about him, about how great Sam was and how had he was working when he wasn't out there saving people. Sam couldn't decide between staring at Bucky or trying to hide behind him, the former won out, but only because the latter would have meant stepping out from right next to Bucky where his hand was resting to tenderly around Sam's, fingers playing absentmindedly with the fabric of Sam's shirt.

Where he was usually so picky with what he chose in taking back home, was he now poking and encouraging Sam to choose something he liked. And Sam felt flustered in a whole new dimension over that attention, how much Bucky was trying to make sure he really liked what he picked.

\--

Back on base, they cooked. They. Not Bucky. They cooked together, Bucky even chased Steve and Vision from the kitchen with a cooking spoon to be alone with Sam. Just the two of them, moving around each other, Sam following closely to what Bucky was telling him to do with kitchen utensils Sam hadn't really ever used before.

“How does it taste?” Bucky asked him, all blinding happy smile and excited eyes as he held out a spoon for the soup they had been making. Sam made another step closer, opened his mouth and let Bucky feed that spoon full of soup to him, he swallowed and then moaned.

Moaned so deeply and long that Bucky flushed.

“Oh my god, this is the best ever.” He declared and Bucky beamed at him, as if that statement had been the only goal of the day, he set the spoon back on the counter and hugged Sam. Just went right in for a tight hug that Sam returned after a short moment of surprise, feeling something pleasant and hot run down his spine when Bucky ended the hug with both his hands stroking down Sam's arms.

“Today was fun.” He said then, making a pause and biting his bottom lip, Sam felt his knees go weak a little, “Do you...maybe want to do it again sometime?”   
“Yeah.” Sam answered like a shot fired, “Yes, of course, I would love to.” He replied and smiled and Bucky looked like the sun was shining down on him for the first time, and when Wanda came into the kitchen, he froze her in a place with a quickly raised hand.

“Hi...” She spoke up hesitantly, “What did you make, it smells delicious.” She asked, smiling at both of them, Bucky hummed and stepped away from Sam to carry the pot of soup to the table.  
“I can give you the receipt, this is for Sam.” He explained and Sam shuddered with something he couldn't even name while Wanda blinked.

“And the fruit cake?”

“For Sam.”

“The milkshakes?”

“For Sam.”

And yeah, maybe Sam should have realized something was off already back then.

\--

Rhodey was next.

\--

On Thursday, still clueless over the sudden shift in Bucky's behavior towards him, all open and inviting, Sam found himself down in the labs, called down by Rhodey who wanted to try something out with the wings. They had done several practice flights in the last weeks, pushed the tech further and further to see if something still could be improved.

Redwing was as always buzzing around the lab, he loved Rhodey the most out of everyone in the team next to Sam, Sam would always be his favorite person, while Sam stood with his arms spread out and held still for Rhodey to take measurements the old fashioned way. Because newer didn't always have to mean better.

“You put on more muscles in your shoulders.” Rhodey noted, voice all cool and calm, his hands sliding gently but also calculating over Sam's shoulders and back. Sam could feel how warm they were through the thin fabric of the shirt he had worn to the gym when Friday had told him that Rhodey had asked if he was available.

“Thanks? Steve's been prodding me to do more work on them after the last two missions where I complained so much about the weight of the wings.” Sam explained and then bit down on both his lips to keep the full body shiver from showing as Rhodey stroked one hand down his spine from his neck down to the small of his back.

“Yeah, I think that's a good decision. You were awfully sore the days after, kept holding yourself all stiff. It was easy to see that your shoulders hurt.” Rhodey said and walked back over to the worktop, starting to adjust something on the pack of Sam's wings. Sam was too busy swallowing and trying to reign in his quickly hammering heart to really take notice of what he was doing in detail.

Rhodey had watched him, he must have watched him very closely because in the three days after those back to back missions, Sam had barely left his room for more than short ten minutes walks into the kitchen and Steve's office to get food and hand in mission reports. Rhodey had watched him closely enough to notice that it had been his shoulders that had given Sam hell and not the hip where he had been hit.

“Are you feeling better now?” Rhodey sent in as well and Sam nodded, three times, unable to keep it at just one, feeling so small but also wanted and welcomed under the other man's attention, especially when Rhodey turned around again and smiled at him. “That's good to know, makes me very happy. So...do you maybe want to see if these upgrades make the pack lighter now? I would really be curious on whether or not it takes the pressure off of your shoulders.”

“Yes, fucking hell yeah, let's go.”

\--

Flying was one of the most beautiful things in Sam's life, feeling so free and so powerful as he soared through the sky, it had always warmed him right to the core.

Especially if he got to do it with someone at his side. A good friend.

And the upgraded wings felt incredible, his shoulders sang in joy and pure raw relief as he took off from the edge of the gym hall's roof, wings spread out wide, suddenly feeling light as a feather on his back and especially his so much abused shoulders.

He whooped and cheered, even let out a loud scream of happiness, quickly laughing when Redwing zoomed past him, madly chirping along. Everything was working a thousand times smoother than it already had, every little dip of his shoulder transferring directly to the wings and his flight path, so easy to control when his back wasn't aching after ten minutes.

Rhodey laughed over the comm line, War Machine flying by him and then hovering next to him, chasing him, letting Sam chase him. It was always a game now, always fun and goofy, showing off, daring the other one to do just one more trick, giving out compliments and whistling in awe.

Sam felt reborn when they touched down again.

“This is so great, thank you so much. I can barely feel any of the weight now.” Sam called out breathlessly, the wind still rushing in his ears a little as he pulled off the wings and handed the pack over to a staff member who would dutifully put it back in the weapon's locker. Rhodey smiled bright and happy when he stepped out of the War Machine suit and then watched it take off on his own to return to its place down in the labs.

“I'm glad.” Rhodey told him, stepping over to him and gesturing to his shoulders, “May I?” He wanted to know and Sam felt his heart swoon, felt the heat shoot through his body.  
“Yes, of course.” He babbled and then bit down on his tongue to keep more words from spluttering past his lips. Rhodey hummed and began to gently knead Sam's shoulders, fingers stroking and sliding over his muscles, looking for any kind of soreness, for knows or tense muscles, but Sam had never felt so relaxed before.

“What do you say we fly out to DC tomorrow? Make those Air Force rookies weep at the sight of this awesome tech and even cooler superheroes?” Rhodey proposed with a grin and Sam started laughing, throwing his head back against Rhodey's shoulder and leaning against him a little.

“Sounds like a really good idea.”

\--

Then came T'Challa.

And that was a surprise. Right out of the blue.

\--

Rhodey and Sam had spent the entire Saturday down with their old Air Force buddies, catching up, playing pranks on the rookies, telling stories to an audience who didn't want to get all gooey eyed about the likes of Iron Man and Captain America, but who preferred their own former buddies. Who were so proud of them. They went out to eat and then hit up a pub to drink their body weight in all kinds of liquid curses.

Sam was feeling the hangover the next day as he stumbled into the kitchen two hours later than usual on a Sunday, still not really seeing clearly and groaning as the smell of food hit his senses. The need for coffee overpowered the urge to gag at the last sensed and he stumbled over to the coffee machine.  
“Someone's been out late.” A musical voice chuckled to his left and Sam hit the button on the coffee machine before looking over his shoulder.

Catching sight of T'Challa's gentle smile and the man behind that smile sitting comfortably at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. Impeccable dressed in a black shirt and a dark blue jacket, and Sam suddenly felt so naked and only covered in thing rags with his old worn out and color faded pair of boxer-shorts and the socks that he now realized he was wearing inside out.

You're a real catch, Wilson.

“Good...” a quick look to the clock in the corner told him that it was always noon and not really counting for morning anymore so he finished with a rather lame, “Hi, T'Challa.” The king chuckled at his greeting but nodded, going back to his tea. Sam grabbed his coffee when it was done and then made a short detour to grab one of Wanda's blankets from the couch to wrap around himself to feel less exposed as he sat down across from T'Challa at the table.

“What brings you here into our neck of the woods?” He asked and then sighed when he took a good long sip of his coffee.  
“Needed to go over something with Stark and Rogers, see if it is something. It's probably nothing but I still wanna make sure.” He explained and Sam could listen to his voice for hours, talking about the most mundane things, it would always sound like pure music and magic to his ears.

He smiled, and they fell back into silence, both of them sipping on their cups, smiling at each other and sharing glances, comfortable in being quiet around each other. The more surprising it came to Sam when a sock clad foot gently stroked up his left leg, leaving him to inhale his coffee and start violently coughing for a good minute, given T'Challa enough time to stand up and round the table to get to his side.

The king patted his back until Sam could breathe again and then soothingly and comfortingly stroked over his shoulders and arms until Sam stopped coughing and wheezing.  
“You okay again?” He asked after another moment of making sure that Sam's lungs wouldn't freak out on him again and Sam nodded, grateful for the help, gobsmacked by the attention.  
“Thanks.” He croaked out and took another mouth full of coffee, careful to pay attention to swallowing now, but also really needing the action to distract him from feeling T'Challa so close.

“Always glad to help.”

\--

T'Challa disappeared after that to talk to Steve and Tony and Sam went back into his quarters to take a really long cold shower that had very much less to do with his hangover and more with other pressing matters he needed to attend do. But even the cold shower couldn't help him and he gave in to temptation. 

He took a nap then, spent some time in the gym and then sought solitude and peace in the library, grabbing the history book he had found interesting last week he settled into one of the couches in the far back. 

He saw T'Challa again in the evening as the other man walked on quiet feet into the library, outside the windows a storm was raging over the base and what seemed like half the east coast from the strength alone. Sam guessed that even T'Challa's awesome jet couldn't take off without risks in this horrible kind of weather and he smiled when the king approached him with a tablet in his hands.

“May I join you? Stark assured me this place is the quietest I could find on base.” T'Challa said and Sam snorted, pulling his legs off of the couch and onto the armchair on his other side to offer T'Challa the place right next to him.  
“That's because he never comes here, doesn't even know where the library really is probably.” He guessed and T'Challa laughed, quietly, shifting his tablet onto his lap, copying Sam's example with the armchair use.

They went to read. Silence again, but Sam soon found himself drawn into glancing up at T'Challa, mesmerized at always with the man who wore the burden of kingship with such grace and strength, with such bravery and patience. So much responsibility, and such a kind heart. 

He came face to face with T'Challa's own curious eyes when he did look up, feeling himself heat up from head to toe as T'Challa briefly let his eyes flicker up and down before going back to his own reading. They didn't talk, just read side by side, the storm outside and so far away somehow, the thick windows not letting in a single noise.

Safety. Silence. Peace.

At some point Sam must have drifted off, all he could remember was closing his book and wanting to stand up but then his head had moved against such a warm and good smelling pillow that his brain had told him to stay put. He was safe, he was protected, he was happy. He didn't get aware that he had slept on T'Challa's shoulder until the king was moving out from under him, silently getting to his feet and setting Sam's abandoned book neatly on the table not far from them.

He returned and Sam was just lucid enough to sleepily blink at him when T'Challa's strong arms pushed under his knees and shoulders and then picked him up as if he weighed nothing. Gently making sure he was comfortable, letting Sam nearly bonelessly roll his head against his shoulder and nod off again a little.

Nod off again until he felt his own mattress dip down below his weight as T'Challa carefully laid him down on it, pulling the blanket over him as well. Sam smiled, so happy and feeling so loved and appreciated. Especially when T'Challa leaned down and brushed a featherlight kiss against his forehead.

“Sleep well, Sam. I am looking forward to reading by your side again in the future.”

\--

Steve rounded the whole thing up.

\--

On Tuesday, Steve surprised him with a bright grin at six in the morning and Sam's sneakers in his hands, standing at his bedside, looking already way too cheerful. But he only needed to say one word about beach and sunshine to have Sam up and dressed in record time. 

They packed a backpack and then swung themselves onto Steve's bike, making the drive out to the more secluded beach that was in their area, longer drive but it brought more privacy with itself. By the time they arrived and parked the bike on the small parking strip, the sun was already rather high in the sky and promising a beautiful day that was best spend lazying around on the beach.

No care in the world while the ocean softly broke its shallow waves on the shore. The softest of breezes tickling their skin. The sand below their towels molding to the curves of their bodies so perfectly.

And Sam found himself deeply relaxed within minutes of lying down on the softest towel that Steve could have found on base. His toes burying themselves in the sand. Next to him he felt Steve settle back against a rock, his sketchbook in his hands, so happy and inspired all the time now.

“You drawing me again?” Sam wanted to know and meant it half as a joke, but Steve chuckled and then reached out with one hand to gently stroked through his hair, scratching softly at his scalp and then sliding his fingers down his ear and neck.  
“I like drawing you, you're beautiful.” Steve answered him, quiet but with a real honesty in his voice, “You inspire me almost all the time.” He continued and Sam felt himself grinning up at him.

“I know you like drawing, that it helps you unwind, so I'm glad I can be of service.” He teased a little and Steve laughed, his hand stroking down Sam's arm until his fingers came to rest on his waist, while his right one began to work on the sketchbook paper. Sam closed his eyes and let himself float away to the sound of the pencil scratching softly over paper and the oceans only a few feet from him, to the feeling of the wind blowing careful and gentle over his skin and the warm grounding safety of Steve's fingers on his waist.

\--

Forty minutes later the fingers at his waist slipped a little higher and Sam twitched. Steve’s head shot up like he had been trying for the best golden retriever impression of all times, eyes wide, lips pulled back so far back in his grin.

“No. Nothing happened, Steve, you will forget these moment, right now. Forget it.” Sam desperately tried to babble over his body’s instinctual reactions, Steve just grinned even brighter, eyes twinkling in pure mischief, “Steve, I am warning you!” But Steve just moved his fingers again and Sam twitched some more, narrowing his eyes at Steve, but making the choice of flight too late.

He had as far as rolling onto his stomach before Steve had him pinned, straddling the back of his thighs and his hands getting to town on either side of Sam’s waist. Sam was screaming with laughter within seconds.  
“Oh my god, why did I never knew you were ticklish. Best discovery ever!” Steve snickered and laughed, one hand stroking up to tickle under Sam’s left armpit.

“I WILL END YOU!”

Kicking out frantically got him nothing, Steve didn’t budge an inch and only let up when Sam was pleading for air. Only then did he roll off, and both of them lied down on their backs, panting for air and grinning up at the sky. 

They drove back to base when the sun was already dipping very close to the horizon, relaxed to their very core and Sam was so incredibly happy. Skipping along the corridor back to his quarters with pure joy, and then smiling so bright it almost dared to pull something in his face when Steve stopped him outside his door and smoothed a hand down his arm. He drew him in for a hug, so warm and firm and Sam was lightheaded when they pulled apart again.

“Next week again?”

“Definitely.”

\--

He was the luckiest man on the planet.


End file.
